Safe
by KujotheVicious
Summary: There are those in SHIELD who still believe Bruce Banner is a danger, a monster- and when they get their hands on him, Tony Stark and the Avengers will stop at nothing to rescue the doctor. Major hurt/comfort, Tony/Bruce, torture.
1. Chapter 1

Bruce turned the phone over in his hands again, rubbing his calloused thumb over the smooth touchscreen. The screen came to life with a bright glow, colorful icons sitting in rows across the surface.

It was probably the most expensive thing Bruce had ever held. He hadn't wanted to take it, but Tony had insisted. Not traceable by SHIELD, he'd said. Safe. Bruce could call Tony or the other Avengers whenever he liked, and the conversations would be safe.

Safe was a word he'd given up using a long time ago. Ever since the accident, he'd never felt safe. The word even sounded funny in his own head.

He flicked through the menus on the phone. A contact list, pre-loaded with the contact numbers for the other Avengers. A scientific calculator. A mobile diagnostics program. Tony had really gone all out on this thing. It tugged at him in an odd way, knowing that Tony had wanted him to stay, wanted him to help in the labs. Wanted him to feel safe here.

There was that word again. Safe.

"Now boarding Flight 343 for New Delhi, priority boarding and passengers with children only," the intercom sounded out from above, bringing Bruce back to the cacophony of the terminal. It was crowded here; it had only been days since the attack, and the first flights were starting to leave the city again. People were desperate to go see their loved ones, escape the mess until things were cleaned up a little better.

Across from him, an older couple sat in the row with two young children playing at their feet. Probably their grandkids, from the looks of it. The two boys were having an all-out war on the dingy carpet of the terminal, the plastic soldiers in their hands throwing punches, kicks, and the occasional 'grenade'.

"Nu-uh, mine threw a grenade! Your guy is dead!" one of the boys proclaimed loudly.

"He's wearing grenade-proof armor!"

Bruce smirked as their grandmother shushed them, telling them to keep their voices down and 'can't you two play with nicer words'.

"General boarding for Flight 343 to New Delhi, Zone 3 passengers only," the intercom said, and Bruce sighed softly, standing and grabbing his duffel bag. The one nice thing about his own particular part to play in the attack; he could get out of the city without being recognized by the general populace, for the most part. There had been a few curious looks, but it seemed no one was confident enough in their guess to approach him.

Bruce had just stepped to the back of the boarding line when a voice piped up behind him.

"Dr. Banner."

Bruce turned, seeing two men in business suits, looking for all the world like normal businessmen. Somehow, his gut told him they weren't normal at all.

"Yes…?"

"I'm Agent McClary, with SHIELD Defense Division. I'm going to need you to come with me," the man said, flashing an ID, a plastic smirk on his face. Bruce frowned.

"Director Fury informed me that I'm free to go," he said, clenching his boarding pass in his hand.

"We don't answer to Fury. You'll need to come with us."

So here it was, exactly as Bruce feared. He knew Fury didn't pull all the strings in SHIELD, and that was exactly why he was at the airport, getting out of town. Too late, it seemed. His hesitation made the man's smirk turn quickly into a frown.

"Don't cause any trouble, Doctor. There are a lot of families here. A lot of children," the agent said. "We wouldn't want them getting hurt. And I'd hate for you to have a public…incident."

No way out. He could see the agent's hand moving toward his waistband, where he no doubt had a gun. Bruce could try to run, but if any of those bullets hit him, he wouldn't be able to control the transformation. They probably had the place surrounded anyway. He glanced over at the two boys, still making loud gunshot noises as they found cover from the gunfire behind chair legs and backpacks for their plastic soldiers.

"You don't leave me with much choice," Bruce said, taking a deep breath, and the agent nodded to the man behind him. He stepped forward and took Bruce's boarding pass, then held out his hand.

"The phone."

Bruce clenched his jaw in frustration. Of course they would ask for the phone; they would expect Tony to give him a lifeline of some kind. Taking careful, deep breaths, his handed the phone to the agent, who passed on both that and the boarding pass to a plain-clothes man standing near them.

"Make sure 'Dr. Banner' stays on the move," he said to the plain-clothes agent, who stepped past Bruce to take his place in the boarding line.

None of the others would even know he'd never made the flight. They wouldn't expect him to call, and even if Tony could track the phone, he would see exactly what he expected to see.

He was alone.

"Good choice, Doctor. Let's go," the agent said, firmly gripping Bruce's elbow and leading him toward an emergency exit. It didn't set off an alarm as they stepped through into the humid summer air, and the stairs down to the tarmac revealed a waiting van.

Maybe he could make a break for it now, get far enough away to-

A sharp pain, sudden, right in the back of his neck. He felt the transformation start, muscles rippling, a growl starting to leave him- but everything was going dark faster than he could finish the change. He dropped back against the agent behind him, the last thing he saw being the green tint flashing through his veins only to subside back to his own flesh tone.

Back at Stark Tower, Tony let out a frustrated sigh as he checked the phone's location, only to find it already pulling rapidly away from New York City.

He'd hoped Bruce would change his mind.

* * *

When Bruce woke up, everything felt fuzzy, and his limbs were tingling. He heard muffled noises, voices and a steady beeping, but he couldn't find the strength to open his eyes, or even move. All he wanted to do was sleep, but he forced himself to try and listen, the memories of the airport coming back to him in bits and pieces.

"Vital signs are climbing, sir. He might be waking up," a female voice said, one that Bruce didn't recognize. He flexed his hands weakly, and pain tugged at his right forearm. Must be an IV, some kind of sedative. What were they doing?

"That's fine. Up the dose if he tries to move."

"The last time we did that he went into cardiac arrest, sir."

"Then be ready for it if we have to do it," the man snapped. "Get in touch with Henry, find out how the cells reacted to that last serum."

_Cells. Serum. They're testing something on my cells. Then they'll start testing it on the source, _Bruce thought, his mind screaming at him to do something. Anything. Lash out, transform, fight back- but he could barely move. He opened his eyes to bright, white light glaring right in his vision, and he blinked groggily.

"He's awake," the woman said, appearing at the side of the table. She inspected his eyes with clinical detachment as the man approached the table.

"Seems like we found the right dosage," the man said as Bruce fought desperately to stay awake. "Keep it right there. If he's awake this will work even better. Dr. Banner, if you can hear me, my name is Doctor Reingart, and I suggest you not try and move from where you are."

"W…What…"

"No talking, either," the doctor said, though he didn't really need to- just that one word seemed to have sapped most of his energy to force out.

The phone rang, and the doctor moved to pick it up, his face changing into a grin. "Excellent! Perfect! We'll do some preliminaries, I'll have the results to you as soon as we have the data," he said, and Bruce closed his eyes as Reingart hung the phone up. He just couldn't keep his eyes open. Just so _tired_.

"Miss Langley, start applying the contacts. Start at the lowest level," the doctor said, and Bruce felt two cool circles press against his temples, then his shoulders. The symmetrical sensors went into place down to his feet, and he tried to open his eyes again.

_What are they doing to me…?_

"And, begin."

Bruce hadn't even registered the doctor's words when the pain hit. It started in his head, shooting straight through him and seeming to focus on the sensor points, like…electricity.

A low moan escaped him, and the pain stopped. He went limp on the table, not realizing how much he'd been straining against the straps holding him down until he felt the pain where they'd cut into his skin. He tried to breathe, but his breath was coming fast, and his sluggish senses were having trouble keeping up.

"Double it."

"Sir?"

"Yes, yes, double it."

Bruce tried to make his voice work, tried to plead or beg with them, that he'd cooperate, they could drain him of all his blood if they'd just _stop…_

The pain hit again, and his whole body tensed with the current, this time so intense that he swore he saw the tendrils like lightning flicker across his hazy vision. A guttural scream escaped him, but this time, the doctor didn't call it off.

_No, no, no, please, just stop, please…_

He heard a hiss as the current suddenly stopped as quickly as it had started. He let out a sob, his whole body trembling against the cool metal table. Every part of him hurt, his skin and muscles ached, and his head pounded fiercely.

"Good. Take some blood and get started on it," the doctor's voice floated in his head, barely recognizable in the fog of Bruce's mind. "I'll keep going with this."

Keep going? No, no, he had to be kidding. They couldn't keep going, this was going to _kill _him.

Maybe that was what they wanted. He barely felt the needle slide into his left arm, held there for a few moments, and then it was gone. Bruce tried to move his fingers again, but they only twitched, the muscles overworked and damaged.

"Let's take it up by a half," the doctor muttered, and Bruce panicked, trapped in his own head. He had to transform. Had to get out. Nothing worked though, not his voice, and his own muscles had no strength. The sedative was keeping everything fuzzy, forcing him into that realm between sleep and awake, the pain tearing at him even there.

_Please, you can have my blood, do whatever you want, just not this, not this, Tony, help me-_

The pain started again, and all Bruce saw was white.

* * *

Tony Stark was not happy.

He stared at the phone on his work table, willing it to ring. Of course, that

didn't work. It sat there, defying him in its own way, silent as the table it sat on. He twirled the soldering gun in his fingers, lost in thought.

He expected that Bruce would go off to the ends of the Earth and get back to whatever hiding place he could find. He hadn't expected that the doctor would seem to completely forget about him. No calls, no texts, no messages of any kind. Tony had texted him once, a quip about Bruce actually using the phone since it had been a gift and all, but no answer to that, either.

It wasn't often that Tony Stark was denied something he wanted. It was nearly impossible to sit here and concentrate on anything else.

"JARVIS, what's Dr. Banner's current location?"

"Sir, the phone is currently located just west of Varanasi."

Tony frowned, picking up his own phone and looking at it. It seemed that Bruce was heading back to Calcutta; but why? Bruce wouldn't go straight back to the place he'd just been if he was trying to lose SHIELD. He'd talked about heading south from Delhi, heading toward Kerala.

Something wasn't right.

He flipped to the contacts menu, scrolling down and selecting Bruce's number. He waited, listening to it ring, somehow knowing the scientist wouldn't pick up.

But then, the ringing stopped.

It didn't seem to be on purpose, either. There was some shuffling, a sharp curse, then the call dropped.

Tony sat up straight, staring at the phone, feeling rage bubbling up in him.

That voice had _not _been Bruce.


	2. Chapter 2

When Bruce woke up again, there was an oxygen mask sealed tightly over his nose and mouth, straps securing it tightly around the back of his head. He wondered for a moment if he was still being shocked, but no, the pain was just still there, making his muscles twitch and his mind race in agony.

How long had it been? Hours, days? He'd lost track after the fourth or fifth electrocution. He swallowed hard, his throat dry, his tongue swelled and useless in his mouth.

"Awake again, are we? Your tenacity is admirable," Reingart said from a nearby counter. Bruce managed to tilt his head in that direction, and saw at least a dozen vials of blood in a rack there beside the microscope. His blood. They'd taken so much of it since he got here, he wondered how he was still alive.

The doctor stood up and walked over to him, checking to make sure the mask was on tight. "Don't worry, we're done with the electro-shock. For now. I was rather impressed with the current your body could withstand, even without your transforming and all. But still…those cells, not even that could taint the radiation," he explained, as if expecting Bruce to join in on the conversation. He wasn't even going to bother; he knew he wouldn't be able to form anything resembling actual words.

"So, we're going to try something else," Reingart continued cheerfully. He pulled a machine over to the table, swinging the arm of it over Bruce and lowering it down over his chest. Two needles were positioned at either end, pointing inward at an angle, and Bruce frowned, swallowed again, tried to speak. Nothing came out but a pained whine.

Reingart ignored his struggle, pulling the arm down into position, then snapping one side down. Bruce jerked in pain and shock as the needle drove deep into the left side of his chest, but Reingart had already reached across, yanking the other end down, driving the other needle into the right side of his chest.

"Now hold still. Not that I have to say that, but it's the thought that counts, correct?" Reingart said with a laugh before looking up. "Miss Langley, if you please."

Bruce frowned as nothing happened. It only took a few moments to realize what had changed- when he tried to take in a breath- there was no air. His eyes widened and he tried to yank against the restraints, but his efforts were feeble, dampened by the sedative still pumping through him.

"Prepare to pull the sample," he heard the doctor say, but he wasn't paying attention to that. His lungs were burning, his whole chest aching, and he was rapidly getting dizzy. He felt his back arch, and bright spots dotted his vision.

_Air, air, please, get this off me, I need air-_

"Pull sample," a voice said in the distance as Bruce's eyes rolled back in his head. He could hear his blood thudding through his veins, his head was exploding with pain, he was about to lose it-

Air. He took in a gasp of it, every cell in him seeming to suddenly rush with oxygen. He slowly came back, his brain firing off randomly at the sudden flood of air.

_Him, on the Helicarrier, trying desperately to hold back the rage as Natasha lay trapped._

_ Laying in a pile of rubble. "You were awake when you fell."_

_ His arm grasping Iron Man, Tony, green muscles straining to slow the fall, ripping through floor after floor of windows and steel-_

"Good. Let's try that again," Reingart's voice broke into his thoughts, and Bruce wanted to cry. He wanted to beg, plead, anything to stop this, he couldn't do it anymore.

_Tony, please find me, please, I can't do this-_

Once again, he gasped for air when there was none to breathe.

In his mind, the trapped, sedated monster screamed with rage.

* * *

"I'm telling you, Fury, unless Banner suddenly decided he wanted to add a voice changer to his phone, _that was not him_."

Nick Fury sighed, swiveling his chair to meet Tony's gaze. "I don't know what you want me to do, Stark. We've been keeping tabs on him. Every contact I've got in the field says he's right where the phone says he is."

"You don't find it a little bit weird that's he's heading right back to where you found him the first time?" Tony asked, pacing from one monitor to another. He'd hack every system they had, if he had to. "He's not an idiot. And that wasn't him."

"Maybe his phone got stolen."

"He'd feel so guilty he'd fly back here to beg my forgiveness. Had to force him to take the thing, he treats it like a piece of glass or something," Tony said, shaking his head as he pulled up a new menu. Fury had given up trying to keep him from the monitors.

"These are you contacts?" he asked, and Nick sighed.

"Yes. Are you going to bother them again?"

"…Just wondering why one of them is presently located in New York City, according to JARVIS, when your server has them listed in India."

Fury was on his feet in an instant, looking at the monitor, then at the handheld computer in Tony's hands. "Must be a miscommunication," he muttered, pulling up the detailed profile. "His last communications were definitely listed from India."

"JARVIS says otherwise. According to my GPS readings…he's in this building."

"Impossible."

"Looks like you're getting some of your strings pulled, Director," Tony said, typing fast to pull up the other contact. "Let's see where this one…oh. Las Vegas. Somehow I get the feeling Banner didn't hitch a flight to Sin City instead."

Fury double checked, then triple checked the results, but Tony was right, and they both knew it. Both agents had been rerouting their communications through satellites to make it look like they'd been coming from India, going as far as to cover it up in the SHIELD servers as well.

"Still think I'm being paranoid?" Tony asked, and Fury glared at the screen, then turned and stormed toward the door.

"Let's go talk to this agent."

It wasn't hard to find him. The man was in the common room of his dormitory wing, sitting at a table, drinking and playing a round of poker. The laughter in the room abruptly stopped when Nick Fury burst into the room, the door smacking back on its hinges so hard that everyone jumped.

Tony was to the man first, though, yanking him up from the chair by the collar of his shirt and slamming him back into the nearest wall.

"This doesn't look like India to me, agent," he growled, and the man stuttered.

"W-What?"

"You were assigned to a detail tracking Bruce Banner," Fury said, standing a few paces back. Everyone else had either frozen in fear or fled the room. "Give me a very good reason as to why you're _here _instead, and why you're sending false communications."

"I was taken off that detail!" the man said, his words coming out in a rush; only his toes were on the ground, courtesy of Tony. "T-They told me it was being taken care of!"

"Who?" Tony asked, tightening his grip.

"I, I don't know, he said he was with the Defense Division! He said they were handling Banner from here, told me to take the week off!"

The guy was clueless. Tony dropped him, his mind racing. It had been a week. A week since Bruce left, a week of him being missing in action without anyone knowing. "Get out," he snapped, and the man and any remaining people made for the door, quickly. Tony turned back to Fury once the room was empty. "What's the Defense Division?"

"It's scrapped, that's what it is. It was a contingency plan, back before I convinced the council to settle for surveillance."

"Contingency plan?"

"Research. On the five of you," Fury said. "To come up with a plan of action should any of you choose to turn on us. I convinced them that was far from necessary. Banner was the one they were most concerned about."

Tonys fists clenched so hard that his short nails were surely leaving red impressions on his palms. "So, for a week, this supposedly scrapped research division of SHIELD has had Dr. Banner, and not even you knew about it."

"I'm not any happier about it than you are, Stark."

"Then show it," Tony snapped, heading back to the control room. "Get up here and help me find him before they've killed him. Or themselves."

* * *

He woke up from a nightmare. A nightmare where he couldn't breath, and when he could, electricity poured through his body as easily as oxygen, tearing him apart from the inside out.

The first thing he was aware of was cold. Bitter, sharp cold. He could feel that he'd been moved- his arms were wrenched up above him, his knees on the unforgiving concrete floor, wearing only boxer shorts. He opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was the puff of his own hot breath.

He tried to move, but both the exhaustion and the pain kept him in the uncomfortable position. A stand next to him held a bag of fluid, dripping steadily down into the IV still in his right arm. Still sedated.

He managed to lift his head, though every muscle complained about the slight movement. The room was empty, every surface grey. He tested the bonds holding him- they clanked loudly, echoing off the walls. Metal.

It was getting colder. He was shivering violently, the cold even stinging his throat and lungs with every breath. He wanted to curl up, conserve heat, but he couldn't manage to move at all without the metal cuffs holding him in place, painfully. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw blood dripping down his arm from where he'd been in restraints for days straight.

_Another extreme, _he managed to piece together, teeth chattering. _First electricity, then suffocation, now cold. They're going to freeze me, then take more blood._

He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take. He couldn't remember the last time he ate or drank; they must have been pumping nutrients into him through the IV, just enough to keep him alive. They couldn't risk him gaining enough strength to Hulk out.

Hulk out, that's what the others had called it. The Avengers. It felt like forever since he'd been in Tony's lab, tossing jargon back and forth smoothly for the first time in years, feeling warm, comfortable, maybe…safe.

He would give anything to be back there. To hear Steve and Tony bickering, hear the computers beeping their way through calculations, to watch as Tony worked with yet another piece of his suit. Watching as it malfunctioned and went careening across the lab like an out of control missile.

_Tony, I'm sorry I left, I'm sorry, I'll do anything, just please…_

The cold kept tugging him back out of that safe place. His fingers and toes were going numb. His shoulders ached deeply, being held at such an awkward angle for so long.

It seemed like forever until the door slid open, and the nurse stepped in. She was wearing a heavy coat as she stepped across the room to Bruce's side, pulling a syringe out and preparing it.

"P-Please," Bruce managed, his voice raw, and she stopped for a moment, looking at him with the first hint of pity in her eyes. "Please, just k-kill me," he begged, and she looked as though she'd been slapped. The doctor's voice came from the hallway, telling her to hurry up.

"I…I'm sorry," she said, and Bruce let his chin drop back down to his chest as she drew more blood. He was shocked he had any left. She stood up, and her footsteps retreated to the door, followed by the sound of it slamming shut again.

The room started to get warm.

Too warm.

He could do nothing but wait, and hope death would take him soon.


	3. Chapter 3

They'd gotten the other Avengers together and were already trying to worm their way through SHIELD's files for any information when they got the call.

"I…I need to speak to Director Fury. Please, I don't have much time," the woman on the other end of the line said, and Fury pressed a few buttons, putting her on speakerphone.

"This is the first line I could secure. They can't trace this, but they'll notice I'm gone soon," the voice said, and Tony tapped his fingers on the countertop impatiently.

"You have information on Dr. Banner?"

"Yes. He's at the secure facility upstate, the one that was closed down earlier this year. He's not going to make it much longer," she said, her voice strained, quiet. "They're almost done with the cycle, and they're not happy. They're considering full dissection."

"What?" Steve snapped, his back ramrod straight, his voice laced with quiet fury. "Can you stall them?"

"Not for long. I'm not in charge of the program. I have to go, someone is coming. Please, hurry."

The line went dead. Tony was already moving toward the door, and Steve ran to catch up.

"Wait, Tony, we don't know anything about this place-"

"If you're going to try and convince me to come up with a plan first, you're just going to be eating my dust in that jet. So forward me the coordinates of the place and I'll go on ahead."

"But, Tony-"

Tony stopped, turned, and glared at Steve. "Bruce is dying right now, probably in ways that you and I aren't even creative enough to imagine. And it's my fault that he's there. So, unless you're more interested in body part retrieval, let's _move_," he snapped, starting to walk again. Steve swallowed hard, nodded, then looked at the others.

"Let's go. Director, forward us every bit of information you have on that place. We'll do some planning on the way."

"Already forwarding it," Fury said, swiping his finger across the screen from file to file. By the time the Avengers had left the room, Agent Hill had stepped in, frowning.

"Director, the Council is on the line. They said they need to talk to you. Immediately."

"You tell the Council," Fury said, his voice measured and restrained. "That my best team is on their way to the Defense Department headquarters to retrieve Dr. Banner. I can guarantee there will be _massive_ casualties if they don't shut down operations immediately and relinquish him to our custody."

"…yes, sir."

"And Agent Hill?"

"Sir?"

"Tell them that for every minute of pain Dr. Banner suffered, I'm going to be spending one million dollars of funds strictly on the Avengers Initiative."

She smirked. "Yes, sir."

* * *

The moment Bruce woke up, he wished he hadn't.

He was strapped down to another table, his head lower than his feet. The straps were tight, holding him down by his arms, chest, and legs. He swallowed hard, blinking; his body felt almost numb. He knew he should be in pain, but he could tell that this was nearly over, one way or another.

His heartbeat was sluggish, thudding dully in his chest. The sedative had probably done permanent damage by now.

The door opened, and the doctor walked in, followed by two assistants- carrying pails full of water.

_Oh, no. Not this. Not this._

"Well, we're done with you, Dr. Banner. We have tissue samples, muscle samples, plenty of blood," the doctor said, strapping on a pair of gloves. "But you leave us with a loose end. I don't like loose ends."

Bruce just stared at the ceiling, too tired to fight anymore, and too tired to beg for death. He knew what was coming.

"So, I shall be a generous person, and give you a choice," the doctor continued, kneeling next to the table, which was low enough on this end that the back of Bruce's head almost touched the floor. The doctor then reached into his jacket, pulling out a pistol and setting it on the floor. "Either we can continue this, or you can commit suicide, and this time, succeed. Both you and I know there will be no Hulk to protect you, in this state."

So that was what they wanted. They wanted him to put a bullet in his head, to have a body and a gun with his fingerprints on it to dump in some foreign country.

He may be desperate to die by this point, but he wasn't about to give them that pleasure.

"K-Kill me yourself," he managed, shocked by how broken and soft his voice was. The doctor sighed, then nodded.

"Very well. The first bucket, please," he said, grabbing a light towel, and Bruce was blinded as the towel was draped over his face. He heard the slosh of water, the creak of the handle on the bucket.

_I'm sorry, Tony, I'm so sorry I didn't stay…_

The thought was choked by the sudden rush of water, burning into his nose, his sinuses, and he couldn't _breathe_. He coughed and tried to thrash against the restraints, and everything hurt, there was no air, just water, cold water.

Just when he thought he was going to pass out, the flow stopped. He coughed and twitched, trying to drag air into his lungs, feeling his heart skipping beats like an old record player.

"We can do this all day, Banner, or until your heart gives out. Or I can leave you this gun and leave you to it," the doctor said, his rough hand pressed against Bruce's forehead, holding his head back and his neck arched painfully as he tried to breathe.

_Just do it, take the gun, this will all be over, that's all you've ever wanted, for it to be over…_

…_Tony would never forgive you. _

He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut under the soaked towel, another slosh, the clang of a bucket, and suddenly there was nothing but water again.

Four buckets later, and Bruce was ready to ask for the gun. He was done, so tired, and he wanted nothing more than the dark embrace of death. He'd had enough. He had no breath left to plead, no strength to object.

_Tony, I'm sorry-_

As they went for the next bucket a huge crash interrupted them. Bruce wasn't sure if he was hallucinating, or even still alive. Everything was fuzzy, confused, and he was hearing echoes, voices that made no sense.

"Bruce! _Bruce!_"

It sounded like Tony. It couldn't be, but it was a nice thought to have, at the end. That his friends might have come for him.

He felt the towel lift off, but he had nothing left in him. He didn't even try to open his eyes. His heart felt like a hummingbird trapped in his chest, flailing, barely fluttering.

He heard gunshots. Another crash. It was all so far away. He just wanted to sleep. That sounded good.

"Is he dead?" a voice asked. Natasha. Sounded like her. His mind raced, fragments breaking into the present, memories suddenly taking hold. He couldn't even remember where he was. The voices floated over him like a distant radio.

"No. No, he's breathing."

"Tony, get him out of here and to a hospital, fast. We'll clean up here."

"Bruce?" There was his name again. Still sounded like Tony. He felt a warm hand on his face, felt the straps loosening. "Bruce, big guy, hang in there. Don't pass out on me, or I swear, I'll slap you."

Tony. It had to be. Or was he imagining it?

Either way, it was nice. He'd wanted to say something. To Tony. What had he said to himself, so many times the past few days? Weeks?

"S-Sorry," he slurred, the world going dark as he was lifted up and pressed against something cool…like metal.

* * *

Tony hadn't left the master bedroom of Stark Tower for four days.

At first, they'd had Bruce in a hospital, but only for a few hours. Tony had seen where he'd been kept, half lab, half hospital. He didn't want Bruce waking up anywhere like that. So he had a full intensive care room set up in the master bedroom of his floor of Stark Tower, hired two doctors to keep watch 24/7, and had Bruce moved there as soon as it was all set up. Now he was keeping vigil, sitting in a chair by the bed, and he hadn't left the room for more than a few minutes at a time.

He heard the door open, and Pepper stepped in with a sad smile, carrying a tray of food. "How is he?" she asked softly.

"Same," Tony said gruffly, the bags under his eyes evidence of the fact that he'd only taken the occasional nap. "Still comatose."

"He'll pull through," Pepper said, the same thing she's said every time she'd come in here. She set down the tray, putting a light hand on Tony's shoulder. "Director Fury wants to visit."

"_Nobody_ from SHIELD aside from the Avengers is stepping foot in this tower until Bruce okays it."

"That's what I told him."

"Good. Keep it that way."

Pepper looked like she wanted to say more, but it had all been said. Get more sleep, try and eat something, get some fresh air. Tony had heard it all, and for once, he was tired of talking to people. For once, there was only one voice he wanted to hear, one person he wanted to talk to, and the rest of the world could go fuck themselves.

Bruce was a damned mess. The doctors said they'd never seen anything like it; burns on his head, shoulders, and feet, looking like they came from a lightning strike. Frostbite on the fingers and toes. Evidence of multiple instances of cardiac arrest. He'd lost 19 pounds in a week and a half despite already being skinny as a rail, and he was starving and dehydrated. Loss of blood had left him at Death's door.

Tony was going to keep that door shut if he had to sit with his back to it for the rest of his life.

The veins in Bruce's arms were all blown, unusable. They'd had to go for a central line in his neck to administer the needed fluids faster and more effectively. The only consolation was that they'd been able to take him off the ventilator yesterday; he could at least breathe on his own now.

Tony swallowed down his rage, reminding himself that those responsible were either dead or about to be put through the wringer, thanks to Fury's rage at what had been done. It was a small step toward salvation in Tony's mind, but very small.

Then again, he'd probably be able to forgive Fury before he forgave himself. Every moment was a guessing game of would have, could have, what if…

He felt movement under his hand- he hadn't realized he'd been resting his hand on top of Bruce's. He looked down, just in time to see those brown eyes open, flecked with green. At first Bruce's gaze was distant, like he wasn't really seeing; it took him a moment to focus, and he blinked when he saw Tony.

"Tony…"

"Hey, welcome back," Tony said, his body flooded with relief. "You're safe, you're at my place."

Bruce winced at the word 'safe', like he'd been pinched. He looked around groggily.

"You know, it usually doesn't take life or death situations to get someone into my bed," Tony pointed out, plastering a smirk on his face, but Bruce was already falling back asleep.

But he would be okay. He'd woken up, however briefly.

He'd be okay.


	4. Chapter 4

When Bruce woke up again, he was warm. Not only that, but laying on something soft.

The pain was still there, but dull. He opened his eyes, blinking in the dim light. It took him a few moments to realize where he was; Tony's bedroom. Stark Tower. He heard the steady beep of a machine, and started to move, but one of his hands was pinned down.

He realized the other sound he heard was steady breathing, and he looked down to see Tony, having fallen asleep on his arm on the edge of the bed. His free hand was clasping Bruce's.

_It wasn't a dream. Not a hallucination. He really came to save me. They all did._

He tried to push up onto his elbows, but fell back with a moan. It fired up the pain in every muscle, every nerve, and Tony was already awake, looking concerned.

"Hey, don't move. I've got this," he said, reaching to the side table and grabbing a remote. He pressed a button, and with a soft whirring sound, the top of the bed lifted until Bruce was comfortably in a sitting position. "Better?"

Bruce nodded. "Yeah…what happened?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"Oh, the usual. There were bad guys, we defeated them," Tony said with that trademark smirk (and Bruce was sure he would trademark it if he could). "How are you feeling?"

"Like…I got hit by a truck."

"Understandable. Need more morphine? The doctor gave me the magic button when he left," Tony said, holding up a control button for the morphine drip. Bruce just nodded numbly, and Tony clicked the button, setting the control aside.

"How'd you guys…"

"Your phone went the wrong way."

"What?"

"Your phone. It was headed back toward Calcutta. You said you'd head south," Tony said, and Bruce frowned.

"You…came looking just because of that?"

"Call it intuition. That and some pushy investigating on the SHIELD database."

Bruce closed his eyes for a few moments. "I…thank you, Tony."

"Don't thank me. I should have gotten there sooner."

"I wasn't expecting anyone to come at all," Bruce admitted softly, looking away. A hand on his chin tugged his gaze back to Tony's.

"You're a part of this team. You're important to us. Important to me," Tony said, his voice serious for once. "We will _never_ leave you like that again."

"I was the one who left."

"And I let you. Won't happen again," Tony said, pulling his hand away from Bruce's face. Bruce missed the touch, the warmth, immediately. "Your apartment and private lab one floor down are almost done. They'll be ready to go long before you get off bedrest."

Bruce felt a strange mix of gratitude and nervousness at hearing that. "Are you sure…?"

"Your name is already on the door, Banner. You're not saying no."

Bruce would have laughed, if he had the strength. "How long…?"

He didn't even need to finish the sentence. "Doctor says two weeks, at least. After that you're only allowed to move around if you've got someone to help you. Which is going to be me. You can come help me with equations in the lab, get your mind off…things."

Things. _Water, just water, no air, can't breathe…_

"Bruce. _Bruce_. Look at me. Right here," Tony said, pulling Bruce's chin toward him again. "I know this, okay? I know it. Been there. I need you to focus on me. Every time you get that feeling, in your chest, just like right now, I want you to focus on me instead. Got it?"

Bruce took a couple of deep breaths, nodding as he stared at Tony carefully, trying to think of anything but _that_.

"Good. Now get some sleep," Tony said, and Bruce blinked in surprise when Tony hopped up on the bed next to him, pulling Bruce's head down against his chest, right next to the soft glow of the arc reactor. His fingers trailed through Bruce's hair, gently, slowly, and Bruce focused on that feeling and on the rise and fall of Tony's chest as he drifted off again.

* * *

Within a week, Bruce was breaking the rules. He couldn't stand laying there, flipping aimlessly through channels, and the brief visits from the other Avengers brought back the reminders of the pain- he could still see it in their eyes, the pity for him, for what he'd been through. He didn't want pity. He wanted some normalcy.

So it had been only six days when he was in Tony's lab, sitting at one of the monitors, trying to figure out why they weren't getting proper thrust on the right foot of the Mach VIII after installing an extra power source in both legs. He could tell that Tony was watching him carefully, but he'd come to expect that, and he continued to work.

"I think I figured it out," Bruce said softly, picking up one of the components and motioning Tony over. "See these wires, here? We just-"

His mind shattered as two of the wires touched and a small shock went up his arm. Nothing even remotely painful or harmful, but he just _broke_. He felt his heart rate jump, and he stumbled away, falling over the chair in an effort to get away, to put as much space between himself and the wires as possible.

"Bruce!"

"No, no, no," Bruce was moaning, trying to breathe. Air, he needed air, oxygen, why couldn't he breathe…?

Someone was kneeling in front of him, grabbing his hands, and he saw Tony, but not really. He couldn't focus. He mind was back on that table, currents wracking his body, his brain starved for oxygen.

"-just focus, right here, I told you," Tony was saying, and Bruce realized that the Other Guy was rearing his head. Pain, fear, his heart was thudding quickly in his chest, and he met Tony's eyes.

_Focus. Focus on Tony._

Slowly, ever so slowly, he worked back down. Deep breaths, and his heart slowed, the monster inside him backing away from the bars he'd been rattling. Bruce felt himself being tugged, and he went limp against Tony's chest with a dry sob.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-"

"Ssh. Stop being sorry. You didn't do anything," Tony said, and Bruce closed his eyes, feeling the soft vibration of Tony's voice in his chest. "Deep breaths. Stay calm. JARVIS, get some tea ready."

"Of course, sir," the AI replied.

They stayed like that until Bruce could tell that he'd stopped trembling, that the fight-or-flight was working its way out of his system. He pushed away a bit, looking up at Tony, so close that he could feel the other man's light breath on his face.

"I'm s-"

"If you say you're sorry one more time, I will have one of these idiot robots use a fire extinguisher on you," Tony interrupted him, and then he leaned forward.

It took Bruce a few moments to realize what was happening. Tony was kissing him. He froze, eyes wide with shock, his hands clenching on the fabric of Tony's shirt.

Tony pulled back a little, studying his face carefully. "If you don't object, I'm going to do that again, Dr. Banner," he said, his voice quiet, low.

Bruce tried to find words, and couldn't.

He didn't want to object.

This time, when Tony caught his lips in a second kiss, he returned it.

And for the first time, he felt safe.


End file.
